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Stupid Emotions

Today started off with the grumble roar of a garbage truck. I jolted out of bed wondering why I once again forgot to drag it to the outside of the fence, certain I would drag my butt out there extra early. It’s never happened yet, but by golly maybe someday I will. 🙂 The very nice garbage men waited and took my trash and they all grinned at me stupidly. I looked down to make sure I was wearing pants (hey, I’ve done stupider shit) and happily yes, there were in fact pants. shirt too. I felt like I was on a roll with the ‘normal’ when I realized I was wearing my collar. Yes, my lovely leather spikey collar Demon sent me. complete with tshirt and scrub pants. yep, I am a hella sexual beast. ~rolls eyes~

Being the twisted freak I am I am kind of thinking that next week I should take the trash out with a ball gag on – just to mess with them. 🙂

Then work, and surprisingly as days go–not too bad. Worked on some equipment, flirted with psycho (if flirting means discussing him performing my brazillian wax instead of the nice spa). Around 4pm I went on etsy and found what has to be my new favorite toy (purple/blue on black leather and anklet cuffs). I have been having way too much fun looking for naughty stuff on etsy. Some of it is stealth naughty; some is blatant and proud. I was planning on hitting the beauty supply store to buy wax (hey, I am not one to say no to a free and detailed wax) then home and relaxing. Instead….well, I talked. openly, freely, and intensely.

It started off well, I had that intense voice talking about how I love easily and deeply but rarely trust. And then Safety dude went into an entire discussion about his life and questioned some of my beliefs in regards to love. He asked me if my best experience ever had been my first and last would that have been enough for me.

oooooh, good question.

then he asked me about my husband, and was all of the stress there my fault–had I not tried hard enough.

well, hell. maybe.

then, we talked further….I got to the point of tears running down my cheeks. It was intense and deep and a REAL conversation. Not one of someone encouraging me to divorce my husband…but just talking about love, what love means, what causes love to die, why we treat the ones we love the worst, his recent divorce, women he loved/thought he loved, how we ended up where we were.

I left this conversation feeling good. strong. centered. Somehow that led me to feel incredibly lonely…deeply bone achingly lonely once I got home. Met some friends for dinner and brought up the conversation and my friend put in her two cents (wants me to divorce). What do I want? still don’t know.

But I tell you what, I can sure “ATTACK” in a conversation. Make someone feel like shit even if I didn’t want that to happen. And in this case, that someone is Demon. I talk to him every day. every single day. I’m in uncharted waters with this man. I love him. I have never seen him in person, touched him, tasted, or smelled him – but I love him. And even though he has made some mistakes; I trust him as well. And that is very hard for me. I can count the people I trust on one hand.

I am really tired. I was given the task of trying to sort through these emotions, write them out, embrace them. The truth of it is as follows I feel guilty. I feel very very guilty. I have an entire life that keeps me sane separate from my husband. So I have some heavy guilt. Something else I don’t want to delve into too much is I said, out loud, “I cannot imagine being free”.

Squished Together…

I write this blog to make myself laugh, and sometimes I even make other people laugh. Beware, there are probably spelling, syntax, grammar, and formatting mistakes all through this blog--but I try not to frak it up too much. I used to try to maintain two blogs, and since that was ridiculously difficult to do that as well as, you know, live--I decided to 'squish' the two of them together. Regardless of what my best friend thinks, the name of this blog has little to nothing to do with my boobs. *sigh* But, since I have family who could some day find this blog I have decided to put anything somewhat risque under a password. Anyone who would like that password needs only to send me a request. If you make the subject line something like "smut" or "password" it will help. :) Please send all requests to: squishedtogether@gmail.com
*kisses*